Down in a Hole: Cracked in Quebec
Day 1: 7/13/2024
173 miles, 9,741 ft. elevation gain
I was determined to set out on a three-day ride to Quebec City and back. I would have to average 260 miles a day to finish this route which was ambitious, yet doable. However, upon waking up on Saturday morning I felt very ill. Two of my housemates had COVID so I figured I was coming down with it as well so I rolled over and went back to sleep. I woke back up several hours later and decided to just give riding a shot. Perhaps I would feel better if I rode for a minute and if I did have COVID there would be no harm in riding some quiet back roads by myself. What else was I going to do?
Shortly after setting out, it became obvious that I did not have COVID because all of my numbers were looking great and I felt great as well, so I set course to Quebec City, determined to complete the route despite my late start. I rode northeast through the White Mountains and by Pinkham Notch where I saw a little moose munching on some lilies. The weather was pleasant once the sun began to set and I felt confident that I would be able to push through with my route. I did some quick mental calculations and realized that due to my late start, I was going to have to pull of some big days at the end of this trip to make this work. That was okay. I am in the midst of my final Pan-American training block and I want to push myself as close to the edge as possible without getting injured. The sun set but my resolve stayed strong. I was bolstered along by a second moose sighting near Dixville Notch. While I had originally planned to make it about 85 miles north of the US-Canada border by Saturday night, I found myself setting up camp just outside of Colebrook, NH on the Vermont side of the Connecticut River. Due to some serious flooding during the previous week, the field I chose to set up my bivy in was layered in a thin rime of mud deposited by the Connecticut which had just recently retreated back to the confines of its normal banks. My brand-new white cycling cleats quickly adopted a much darker brown shade. I faded off to sleep among building clouds, excited for what the coming days held.
Day 2: 7/14/2024
268 miles, 13,855 ft. elevation gain
I woke to a dense fog that pervaded every article of gear I had that hadn’t already been soaked through by the muddy field I called home for the night. I set off and was at the US-Canada border by 6:00 after a short 10-mile ride. I passed into Quebec at the behest of a very nice border patrol agent. The fog began to burn off and I was greeted with expansive blue skies over rolling hills and green fields. The roads were straight and consistently rising and falling with the land as the roads were built over the hills as opposed to around them. Quebec builds roads with directness in mind. However, I quickly learned that Quebec does not always do a fantastic job of repaving roads in disrepair or smoothing out roads plagued by frost heaves. I enjoyed the riding but soon found it monotonous. I headed north-northeast all morning and afternoon, neither hindered nor aided by a strong crosswind blowing from the west-northwest direction. Much of my morning and afternoon blend together in my mind as the roads all looked alike and each town had the same look with a classic beautiful, yet cookie-cutter-style church perched on the highest point of the town. I reached the St. Lawrence River by 16:00 and promptly crossed to the north shore before turning due east along the banks of the Lawrence towards Quebec City.
I was delighted by the beautiful architecture of Quebec City which I found to be very reminiscent of Europe. Indeed with throngs of French speakers milling about the streets due to the famous music festival, Festival d'été de Québec (FEQ), combined with the European-style architecture, I felt like I was a long way from home. I did not linger in the city for long as I, unfortunately, had places to be and roads to bike. I’m not one for big cities anyway. I prefer my quiet roads and mountains.
After crossing back over the St. Lawerence River I set off south back towards the States. I made good time into the evening and was treated to a beautiful sunset between Levis and Saint-Malachie. I stopped riding a bit past midnight about 10 miles southeast of Saint-Georges. I set up my bivy on the edge of a cornfield and cashed out for the night.
Day 3: 7/15/2024
348 miles, 16,063 ft. elevation gain
After a short but sweet 2 1/2 hours of sleep, I got up at 3:30 and broke camp. Being so far north, I could already see the first light of day illuminating the horizon to the east. It took me a couple of hours to get settled, but I was feeling pretty good considering my lack of quality sleep. I stopped for breakfast in Saint-Gédéon-de-Beauce then again in Lac-Mégantic. I accidentally took some gravel roads, but the surface was smooth and I did not have any problems. The gravel in Quebec looks fantastic. I would love to return to explore the roads more at some point. The brief sections of gravel I rode were actually smoother than some of the paved roads I was on. The frost heaves were violent and incessant on many of the roads throughout Quebec which made riding uncomfortable at best and dangerous at worst in the dark. After Lac-Mégantic I had just an hour to the Maine border. Unfortunately, I was fighting a 10-15mph headwind all day which hindered my speed, but I was still making decent time. I was given the brief and warm welcome I am now accustomed to at the US border.
Soon I was passing by Chain of Lakes on my way into the Bigelow Mountains. I stopped once again in Eustice, Maine where I was treated to my first good view of the Bigelows. From Eustice I took a circuitous route by Sugarloaf before heading back up to the Rangeley Lakes. The northwest corner of Maine lived up to my high expectations. The mountains are beautiful, the lakes many, and the roads relatively quiet. Despite my developing sleepiness I quite enjoyed this portion of the ride. I started pounding energy drinks and coffee 8 hours into my ride, around noon. During a gas station stop I looked into a mirror and realized that my eyes were swollen and red. I looked incredibly sleep deprived and I started to feel the part as well. After passing through Rangeley I was treated to a beautiful ride on Highway 17 with incredible views of Lake Mooselookmeguntic below. I also saw a moose on Highway 17, my third of the trip!
By the time I reached Rumford the sun was starting to get low in the sky and I felt myself slowly getting tired. I stopped again to re-up on caffeine before making my next push into New Hampshire. The sky cleared and I was bathed in the beautiful light of the golden hours of the evening. There is something so special about the sunset when one has been riding outside all day. At the end of long efforts I can always appreciate the beauty of the day’s fading light and the fleeting grace of the final hours of the day to a degree that is not possible under normal circumstances. The final hours of sun and the hour after the sun has gone down—when the sky is still illuminated… I don’t know how to put it into words but no matter where I am, this time of day always strikes a chord deep within and lights up my soul. I always have a wonderful time on the bike during this period Between Rumford and Bethel, Maine I was basking in the glory of golden hour and my riding was the best it had been all day. I was able to average over 22mph for about an hour—with a net elevation gain. However, once I passed Bethel even the brilliance of the fading sky could not keep my body afloat. I felt myself start to lose my edge as my mind began to wander into the deepening folds of sleep deprivation delusion. I began to notice some rather painful chafing and regrettably remembered I had forgotten to bring any chamois cream. The road was beautiful though, following the Androscoggin River west through the solitary notch in the White Mountains staring up at the Carter-Moriah Range.
I reached Gorham just before 21:00 as the last light of day was disappearing in the western sky. I stopped for a final refuel and dinner. A sandwich and a triple shot Starbucks energy drink later I was back on my bike ready to finish off the final 95 miles in the dark. The caffine cleared my head for the time being but I knew this reprise was fleeting. My headlight gave me a low battery warning as I rode along the northern flanks of the Pemigewasset Wilderness towards Cannon, so I turned it off and rode in the dark with the dim light of the half moon as my only guide. I knew the road surface was good and there was virtually no traffic so it felt safe to ride in the dark like this. I have done this before and I always remember the solitary peacefulness that is truly unreplicated. The wind softly rushes by and the sky opens above to reveal the millions of twinkling stars that we so often overlook or are unable to see. So I continued for an hour before I reached roads that necessitated the revival of my headlight. With 45 miles left I started to notice bright flashes of lightning ahead. Sure enough with less than two hours left the skies opened and rain descended upon me. The flashes of light and violent rain warded off many of the sleep deprivation-induced hallucinations and delusions that were slowly creeping back. However, the moisture immediately sparked some of the most intense non-trauma pain I have ever experienced in my now serious chaffing problem. It was too painful to ride while seated so I was forced to ride out of the saddle for about an hour until things settled down a bit and the pain began to recede, or at least I was able to get used to the pain to the point where I could temper it in my mind. The last 40 miles of the ride were along the Connecticut River on my home roads that I have ridden hundreds of times. I knew I was going to make it home, but it was still painful to have over two hours left when I felt so close. For the first time in months my legs finally felt genuinley tired. For the most part, my endurance base is so strong at the moment that my legs do not get tired even during 80 hour weeks. As it turns out, it now takes 610 miles on 2.5 hours of sleep to make my legs feel tired. Good to know for next weekend. I made it home at 2:45 a.m. without any further difficulties and quickly let myself drift to sleep. My respite was well-deserved, but I knew it was fleeting as I had class in just a few short hours.
At 348 miles this was the third longest ride of my life. However, I really view the last two days as one big 610-mile ride punctuated by a short 2.5-hour nap. This ride certainly was not easy, but all things considered, I am incredibly proud of how I rode and how my body responded to the pushing I subjected it to. During the last 10 hours of this ride, I was quite tired from a sleep and muscular perspective. While I never truly cracked, I had to push through some serious pain and mental resistance to finish this trip.
